Red Smoke
by michael1812
Summary: The sadistic and eternal Maldis manipulates Macton and D'Argo. A bloody climax ensues.


"Where am I?" the Sebacean said as he opened his eyes.

A large chamber stretched out in front of him.

He couldn't remember how he got here.

As he looked around, he saw many strange statues, and torches on the wall which burned strongly.

"Welcome to my humble home..." an old man suddenly spoke.

The Sebacean did not see him enter the room.

Where did that old man come from?

"Hello, my name is..."

"I know your name." the old man said.

He was a short, old man with a hunchback and he was dressed in old robes.

His face was wrinkled and old, but the man seemed old and powerful.

"You are Macton." the old man spoke with a high toned voice.

Macton was surprised to hear that the old man knew his name.

"Yes, I know who you are." the old man spoke. "I know your past, your present and your future."

"Then I assume that you are the one who brought me here." Macton spoke.

"Your assumptions are correct."

"And why have you brought me to this godforsaken place?" Macton said.

"You don't like my home?" the old man said grinning. "I don't care if you like it or not. It is my home, not yours."

The old man turned his back on Macton and walked away.

But Macton kept following the old man, who wasn't hard to keep up with, because he walked very slowly.

"I haven't heard your name." Macton said.

"That's because I have not said it."

Macton didn´t like to the fact that he was being toyed with.

"How did you bring me here?" Macton asked.

He was curious to know how he ended up in this weird chamber, regardless of his growing anger towards this strange old man.

"The words I need elude translation's grasp." the old man said. "Suffice to say...I simply wished you here."

Macton did not understand what he just said.

Did this old man have such great power that he could just _wish_ him here?

"How far have I traveled?" Macton wondered.

Now he realised that this old man held his life in his hands.

"I apologise if I have upset you, wise old man." Macton said. "I did not mean anything by it when I insulted your home."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere." the old man said as he turned around.

The smile on the old man's face was painful to look at.

"My name...is Haloth." the old man said. "And I brought you here...for a reason."

"Finally." Macton thought. "Some answers."

"As I said, I know everything about you, Macton." Haloth said. "I know about your crimes. Your sister's murder, the Luxan you hate."

Macton silently waited for Haloth to make his point.

"The Luxan which escaped..." Haloth whispered to him as he got even closer to Macton, who had to bend towards him to listen to his words. "I know where he is."

"Ka D'Argo?" Macton asked to make sure.

"The same."

Haloth's eyes looked at Macton through his small glasses, which stood on the tip of Haloth's nose.

It pierced right through Macton, and the Peacekeeper knew that Haloth could read his mind.

"Tell me where he is."

Haloth smiled.

-

"What-Where am I?"

Ka D'Argo looked around, as he noticed he wasn't in the marketplace anymore.

Suddenly he stood in the centre of this strange, huge chamber.

Torches burned on the walls and D'Argo noticed a strange motif on the floor which he had never seen before.

The huge statues looked down on him silently, as though they were alive, but D'Argo did not fear them.

But he did fear the old man who approached him.

"Where am I?" Ka D'Argo shouted at him.

"This is my house." Haloth said to him. "I brought you here."

"Then bring me back!" D'Argo said.

"Not yet." Haloth said. "There is much to be discussed before I will grant that request."

Haloth's eyes wandered from D'Argo's face to his weapon that the Luxan held on his back.

D'Argo's Qualta Blade.

"Take a seat." Haloth said, as he pointed at the chairs which miraculously appeared behind D'Argo.

"I don't want to sit!" D'Argo shouted. "I prefer to stand!"

"Fine. Whatever you like."

The chair vanished into thin air.

D'Argo couldn't believe what he just saw.

"Are you a sorcerer?" he asked.

"One might call me that." Haloth said amused. "However, I am much more."

"Why have you brought me here?" D'Argo asked, knowing it wouldn't be smart to anger a sorcerer.

"I thought you'd never ask." Haloth said as he walked around the Luxan with a large smile on his face.

Haloth's walking stick tapped the floor with every step he took.

"Perhaps you know the name _Macton_?"

D'Argo hissed out of anger.

Oh, yes, he knew that name.

It was the name of the man who murdered his wife.

"How do you know that name?" D'Argo said, wondering if he knew where Macton was.

"The same way I know your name, Ka D'Argo..." Haloth spoke.

"But that's not what you really want to know, do you? What you really wanted to ask was: Where is he?"

"I want to kill him!" D'Argo shouted.

He angrily walked towards the old Haloth, but he simply vanished into red smoke as D'Argo came to close.

"Temper, temper,..." Haloth spoke smiling, as he appeared behind the Luxan.

"Where is he?" D'Argo shouted. "Tell me, now!"

Haloth waved his hands in the air once again.

A strange mist gathered in the chamber and seemed to be blown towards the large wall to the right of D'Argo.

The mist seemed to brighten, until it became as clear as a mirror.

The room was reflected in the mirror, only it was not himself D'Argo saw standing.

Macton stood in the centre of the reflected chamber, awaiting Haloth's arrival.

D'Argo stampeded towards the mirror, wanting to smash Macton's face in.

But the only thing he managed to smash was the wall itself, as the mist suddenly vanished and Macton disappeared.

Furious, he turned to Haloth.

The sorcerer looked at the Luxan with a playful, wrinkled smile.

"I will take you to Macton." he said. "But, only after you've paid a price."

"What price?" D'Argo said, who eagerly wished to kill Macton. "You mean money?"

"Oh, no." Haloth said. "Not money. I have no use for that. No..."

The fires in the chamber burned brightly.

"I want your Qualta Blade."

D'Argo was quiet for a moment.

He reached over his shoulder and grabbed his trusty Blade.

D'Argo thought back to the day his father gave it to him.

To the day his father told him about this blade. A legendary blade.

A blade which would lead the Luxans to victory. Which would save them from oppression and guide them through life.

Should D'Argo give it to this old sorcerer, in return for revenge upon Macton?

"Perhaps it would be the most wisest thing to do." D'Argo thought. "The sorcerer would be a much better owner then I could ever be. Who knows what he plans to do with it? What ancient magic could be unravelled with it?"

D'Argo handed the Qualta Blade to the old sorcerer, who was pleased to have it in his arms.

"I've kept my end of the bargain." D'Argo said. "Now you keep yours."

"Oh, I shall." Haloth said.

Haloth pointed his finger with a quick and violent movement at D'Argo.

The room started to turn and turn. Everything shook and spinned.

Just as D'Argo closed his eyes in agony, the spinning stopped.

As he opened his eyes, he saw Macton standing in front of him.

The Peacekeeper was shocked to see him.

"D'Argo!" he said afraid. "I've got to talk to you! D'Argo, listen!"

But D'Argo wouldn't listen.

He grabbed the Sebacean by the neck and hurled him across the floor.

"You will pay for what you did to Lo'laan!" D'Argo shouted.

"Sorcerer!" Macton shouted at the old man, as he saw him standing at the back of the chamber.

Macton cunningly avoided D'Argo's next attack, but rushed towards the wizard who just smiled as he approached him.

He was leaning on D'Argo's Qualta Blade.

Before Macton could approach him even further, D'Argo grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.

"You promised me something!" Macton shouted. "You promised me that I could talk to him! I paid you for it!"

"I've kept my promise!" the sorcerer said. "Talk all you want! But I am afraid D'Argo won't be much of a listener!"

Haloth laughed loudly.

"You can't lie, cheat or murder yourself out of this one, Macton!"

Macton used his Peacekeeper expertise and training to dodge and counter D'Argo's attacks, but that didn't stop him from taking some heavy punches to the face.

"Haloth! You swine!" he shouted.

"Oh, my name is not Haloth." The old wizard spoke.

He shed of his old robes and suddenly the old wizard was no old wizard anymore.

The man which stood there now, holding D'Argo's Qualta Blade in his hands, was someone far younger.

Someone far more dangerous.

His appearance was overwhelming.

The wizard stood like a victorious general at the end of the chamber, as though he was overseeing the battle which took place.

He suddenly wore a large black armour, which contrasted with the white hair he had left on his head.

Out of many forms, the wizard preferred this one.

His large, yellow eyes pierced through flesh and bone.

"I am Maldis." the wizard spoke.

His voice had changed as well.

It was much louder, clearer, and more confident.

And powerful.

"D'Argo, listen to me!" Macton said. "The wizard has bewitched us both! He made us believe he was a weak, old man, but he isn't! When you kill me, the wizard will kill you!"

"I don't care!" D'Argo shouted.

His rage grew stronger and stronger, until hyper-rage was inevitable.

The Luxan began smashing everything in his path.

Statues, candleholders and tables were thrown aside.

Even the walls were crushed, as D'Argo lost control.

Maldis stood there laughing, as he felt their anger and hatred fill his veins as he sucked it from their bodies.

He fed on their negative energies and their lust for death.

And soon, he would feed off of them entirely, as they breath their last breaths.

But Maldis didn't really care what happened to them.

Dead or alive, none of them served a purpose anymore.

Maldis got what he wanted.

Macton's ship.

And D'Argo's Qualta Blade.

With Macton's ship he could travel across the stars, into Peacekeeper Territories even.

Maldis liked Peacekeepers.

They have the smell of death upon them, and they taste like chicken.

But D'Argo's Qualta Blade was probably the most important object of all.

Maldis had searched everywhere for such a weapon.

A weapon with such ancient roots. Ancient meant old. Old meant wise. Wise meant powerful.

And with power comes potential.

Potential to kill. Potential to murder.

D'Argo's Qualta Blade is more then just a weapon.

It symbolises death, for it's only purpose is to kill.

Maldis would be the perfect owner for such a weapon.

It suited him.

As Maldis disappeared into red smoke, he could smell death surrounding the Peacekeeper Macton.

"Oh, it won't be long now." Maldis spoke as he gazed upon the fight between Macton and D'Argo.

Even with all his training and knowledge Macton does not stand a chance against a angry Luxan searching for vengeance.

Macton deserved what was coming to him.

Maldis smiled as he realised that he had, in a way, done a good thing, for the first time in his life.

He laughed loudly, as he watched Macton lie slain across the floor.

Blood flowed over the floor.

"Good things come and go." Maldis spoke, as he feasted off Macton's dying corpse.

"But Maldis lives forever."


End file.
